


From Slave to Sith

by sayurinitta



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Character Study, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:09:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayurinitta/pseuds/sayurinitta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life & relationships of my Sith Inquisitor Pthia, a character in the game Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Restless Past

Pthia lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling of her quarters onboard her recently acquired personal starship, the Fury. She was attempting some sort of sleep before heading to Balmorra, but it was elusive, her head too full of everything that had happened since she had left Korriban. Turning on her side, she twisted a length of her white hair around her hand, the strands only slightly brighter than the hue of her skin. She listened as Khem Val roamed the ship, heard his mutterings whenever he came close to the outside of her closed door. The Dashade was her subjugated companion, a state of affairs that several months ago she would not have dreamed of. Then again, she would not have dreamed of any of this. Dreams were for those with hope, and she'd virtually lost all that in her years as a slave. 

"Slave no longer," she said out loud, as though she was trying to reassure herself, she who was now Sith, she who could wield lightning and scorch the skin, or even stop the heart of someone who displeased her if she so willed it. She had power, she could command respect, admittedly through fear, but it was all a balm to one who had never known respect. Where once she was nameless, where once she was property, where once she had no kin, no bloodline to be proud of...she had a name, she could own what she wished and now she knew that her life could have been so much different. She had a lineage that any Sith would be proud of, descendant of Lord Alyosius Kallig, one time general and rival of the legendary Tulak Hord. Harkun would know of this, she vowed it, before she killed him that was. And anyone else, all those that had looked down, or spat on her for being less than they were. There would be time for all this when she gained more power. And a special moment when she tracked down the one that had once called himself her Master. 

She would take her revenge on him slowly, she would pay him back for all the humiliations, the years of servitude, the beatings, the branded scars. She moved a hand to her face, tracing the raised pattern of scars that was on her forehead and that stretched from one side of her face to the other, arching under her eyes, and over the bridge of her nose. She still remembered her screams of pain, the burning smell of her own flesh and the beating she endured because she soiled the rags she wore with vomit when the pain and smell had made her nauseous. He would feel all of her pain...and then he would die. 

She recalled the day that she had been recruited, a day she had been thankful for ever since. She had ignored the dire warnings from the other slaves that she was replacing one hell for another, she saw the respect that was given to those who took her away and they were not even Lords! She didn't hope that she would have a better life, she would will it for herself. She had escaped and she would not waste the opportunity. She would scratch, claw and fight her way to something better. She would kill to be something other than a slave. She was still called it though, but every time someone attempted to push her down, to put her in her place, she pushed back harder. And now she was Sith. She had become greater than her beginnings, had risen from the dirt and she would not fall down again. Destiny, fate. Whatever it was, her path to power was being forged and she would see that it never stopped. 

With such thoughts Pthia finally drifted into sleep.


	2. Sunburn & Sexual Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newest member of Sith Inquisitor Pthia's crew disturbs what should be a time of meditation.

Pthia had hated Tatooine with a passion. Sure she had left there task done, artifact found and with an interesting new shipmate, but she had also left with painful sunburn, her pale skin was now flushed red and sensitive to the touch. Even gusts of air against her skin were causing her some discomfort. The suns had hurt her white-irised eyes, and had caused them to water much of the time. She had used a kolto-spray liberally to try and bring some sort of relief, and was now sat on the floor of her quarters, legs crossed, the back of her hands loosely resting on her knees as she attempted to meditate. It was tricky, not only was her skin prickling with heat rash, but thoughts of the pirate who had joined her crew - Andronikus Revel - kept flitting across her mind. 

It was his voice that had initially sparked more of an interest in him than his vaunted skills as a pilot. It was deep, gravelly even and she'd always had a bit of thing about guys with deep voices. The low tones sent shivers down her spine, and she had begun to idly wonder what kind of sensation she would feel if he was whispering in her ear. She opened her eyes, shaking her head, brushed a wayward strand of hair from her face and tried to focus once more. His face popped into her mind this time, the tattoo that crossed the left side was etched into her memory because she'd traced it with her eyes every time they spoke. He was such a contrast to Pthia that she wasn't even sure why she was entertaining these thoughts. He had an overall roughness, though it was softened with a sort of devilish charm. He was clearly no stranger to violence, and wielded it in his own way. He had been freely flirtatious since requesting to join her crew, and she had responded in kind, though she was unsure as to what exactly she wanted from him. He was no Sith though, and she always thought that when she did develop feelings for someone that it would be with someone who wielded the Force as she did.

It wasn't just a casual fling she wanted though, sex to scratch the itch that had been steadily developing the more she enjoyed her freedom. Although there was nothing to stop her; not only was she an adult, she was a Sith and indulging ones passions was posivitively encouraged. It fired the inner fuel that gave them power, and she was beginning to feel how she imagined the Jedi did, attempting control when the body had other ideas. This would have to change, she would have to do something about how she felt but there were...complications. Leftovers from her slave life that meant she always hesitated when it came to physical contact. She gnawed at her lip, not wanting to think about it further, carefully standing, giving up on trying to find her inner focus for now. Her thoughts were too scattered, and her sunburnt flesh was beginning to bother her again. If she never went to Tatooine again it would be too soon. She scooped up the cloak that she'd lain across her bed before attempting to meditate and fastened it to the ornate metal collar of her top. Leaving her room she headed for the starship cockpit, they were due to head to Alderaan and she needed to get them underway. As usual, Andronikos was there, fiddling with the controls and he looked up as she entered. 

"Interesting colour Sith," he said with a smirk and she threw him a look. 

"If you say another word about my sunburn I will light you up like a Life Day tree. Pirate." she shot back, and he laughed.

"Not another word," he said, holding up both hands as if in surrender.   
"I promise."   
He was still grinning though and she shook her head. 

"We're heading to Alderaan next. If you could see fit to getting us there I would be eternally grateful," she said, her words edged in sarcasm. She looked out the viewports, taking hopefully her last look at the dust ball of a planet that they were in orbit above, only half listening as she heard Andronikos move around to her left, plotting a course and then there was the familiar sense of movement that ran through the ship and she looked away from the view as the stars blurred. 

"It still hurts then?" his voice was close now, and she turned, almost into him. She looked up at him and nodded, flinching as his hand touched the bare skin on her arm. 

"If you want me to rub cream onto you..." he offered, and then laughed as she shook her head, pushing past him. 

"Life. Day. Tree." she repeated over her shoulder as she walked away, her skin on fire. He'd said that and for a moment she'd gotten a vivid image of his slick hands sliding over her naked body and now she ached in more ways than one. 

"Alderaan. Concentrate on Alderaan." she repeated, taking herself to the furthest part of the ship from the infuriating pirate until they came out of hyperspace over the planet.


	3. Laid Bare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pthia reveals more of her past to Andronikos Revel

Alderaan had been...interesting. She was back on the Fury now, curled up on the long curved couch that was near the holoterminal. She knew she should contact Zash, let her Sith Master know that she had gained the artifact but she was enjoying this moment of peace. Once she did so, she would be bidden to travel once again, and she liked these moments where no one was telling her what to do. She'd had far too much of that in her life already. A hand tugged at the length of her hair, twisting the ends around her fingers. It was a self-soothing habit that she'd fallen into when she was a child, and even now she still caught herself doing it when she was pent-up with emotions. 

Lost in her thoughts, it took a moment to register that Andronikos had sat next to her, sliding an arm across the back of the seat, leaning close.  
"Yes?" she asked, a flush on her cheeks as he was looking at her intently now, his eyes locked with hers and he slid closer, causing her pulse to quicken. She started to say his name but he closed the space between them, and with one hand resting lightly on her shoulder, his fingers tangling in the hair that rested there, he kissed her, full on the lips. For a moment she felt that she was going to push him away, it was but a short moment and she returned his kiss, breathing in the scent of him, shifting her position on the seat so that she was almost in his lap, the kiss turning from a slow and gentle one to something more passionate. His arms were around her now, his hand wandering over her curves, and she managed to pull away as he started to pull at the top she was wearing, fingers creeping under the cloth towards her skin. 

"Wait," she said, looking at Andronikos. His lips were reddened from their kiss, and from when she had begin to nibble at his mouth. She could sense his frustration at her having pulled her away, but he didn't do anything but sit back, waiting for her to speak. 

"Okay," he replied eventually. She didn't often lose her nerve, but she was a novice about this sort of thing, and she had to tell him. A hand moved to tug at her hair, and she had to stop herself from doing that, instead she pushed her slightly sweaty palms across the legs of the casual pants she was wearing and let out a breath. She wasn't sure how to or even where to start this conversation, but then he spoke again.

"Are you untouched Sith?" he asked suddenly, surprising her with his insight, and he let out a low whistle as she nodded. Something had suddenly clicked for Andronikos, and he'd now realised why despite that Urtel Moren guy pretty much throwing himself at Pthia she'd turned him down. For a while she'd looked like she was responding to the Sith's advances but when he offered to show her his room she'd shut down and bluntly refused.   
"Is that from when you were a slave?" he added, and she nodded again, the soft white waves of her hair that framed her face moving as she did so. He reached out, and for a moment she seemed as though she would flinch away but didn't move and he just brushed the hair from her face. Pthia closed her eyes and turned her face into his hand, her warm cheek against his rough palm and then he dropped it away, leaning into the seat as she spoke.

"The maidenhoods of the female slaves at the household where I served from the age of 5 were the special preserve of our 'Master'."  
She almost spat the last word, anger flaring at the thought of the odious man. She had to take several breaths to calm herself, she had felt the tingle of her force lightning building and she didn't want to lose control on the ship, especially when she was sitting so close to Andronikos. 

"So much so that when we were beaten it was always on our backs, so that our fronts would be pristine when we reached our 18th year."  
She had slightly turned as she spoke, removing the jumpsuit jacket she had been wearing, so that all that was covering her was the thin band of cloth that circled around and covered her breasts. She was sure she heard Andronikos take in a sharp breath as he saw her skin, the criss-crossed scars ran from her shoulders down towards the small of her back. She really did flinch when he moved closer and pressed his hand gently on her, tracing one of the lines, the light touch eliciting a shiver. Pthia turned back towards Andronikos and she saw the set of his jaw, and felt a rush of warmth for the pirate as he spoke again.

"I'll kill him for you."

She shook her head at his offer.  
"One day I'll pay him back. But his death is mine, and mine alone." 

Andronikos nodded at that. She felt he would understand her desire for the revenge to be her own, and wasn't surprised when he agreed so readily.  
"So he didn't?" he prompted as she had fallen quiet again. She shook her head. 

"Sith recruiters came calling. I was taken away before he could claim his 'right'."  
Pthia moved closer to Andronikos once more, allowing him to wrap an arm around her and she tucked her head on his shoulder, one pale hand resting on his chest, watching it rise and fall gently to his breathing. 

"I was still called slave every day. Unworthy of being a Sith. But their numbers have dwindled and despite everything I kept going, so eventually I was shipped to Korriban for my final trials. I didn't need or want anything sexual during that time. My power flowed through me with my determination, my anger was passion enough. Rage flowed freely at being told at every turn that no matter what I did I would always be a slave to most," she murmured, her voice low and quiet, Andronikos was letting his fingers run through her hair and the sensation was relaxing. 

"I thought that was enough. And for a time it was. But Zash freed me again, and now I have less pent-up rage and now more ..." she raised herself so that she could look him in the face and his arm around her moved, dropping, the hand resting on the small of her back. 

"Frustration?" he asked, a smile stealing across his face.

"Yes," she admitted with a nod.  
"Your voice, your scent. I...imagine your bare skin against mine. Your hands..." she caught his other hand with hers, twining her fingers in his and bought the hand to her mouth, kissing his fingers in turn, and then let it rest on her above her heart, her hand over his. 

"Everytime you were near me I thought for sure you could hear my heart beat faster," Pthia continued.

"I couldn't." Andronikos laughed a little, though he wondered now if she could hear his heart. He was thoroughly enamoured with this Sith, with Pthia, though outwardly he wouldn't show it, would continue to act as though he was the wayward pirate with nothing to tie him down, who could skip off the Fury at any port and never be seen again.   
"But I like knowing that it does it all the same," he moved his hand from beneath hers, running his fingers lightly up her neck and gently tilted her head towards his and kissed her again. And for a while that was where they stayed, wrapped up in each other on the couch.


	4. Sound and the Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recent events become too much for Pthia & she lets loose her pent up rage

Andronikos had seen something in Pthia's expression as she dismissed everyone from the ship, a look of barely contained rage. He'd not wanted to leave but she had been insistent, her words brooking no argument. Of course the pirate still did his own thing, even where his Sith was concerned (he'd already come to think of her that way, but had not said anything out loud, their relationship still fledging and tentative), and so after making sure the now Zash-infested Khem Val had left along with Pthia's new apprentices he'd made his way quietly back on the starship. He let slip a groan as he walked through, the air was heavy with static and electronics were shorting and sparking all over the place. He almost tripped over the heap on the floor that was the ship droid, 2V-R8, as he walked into the large and open area that the rest of the ship branched off from. The holoterminal was scored with burn marks, and the smell of scorched materials hung heavy in the area.

"This is going to take some time to fix," Andronikos murmured to himself, running a hand over close shaved head, scratching at the back of his neck before he continued on, looking for the Sith, and in half a mind about doing so. He checked one side of the ship first, and only some slight damage was visible, it seemed that she'd had at least some self control and had left the crew and her own quarters relatively unscathed. The bridge was untouched, and so Andronikos went on, hoping she would have left the engine room alone as well. The trail of damage led into the cargo hold though, and he stopped at the open door as an arc of Pthia's force lightning jagged across the threshold. She was standing in the centre of the room, arms outstretched, the power flowing freely, and when he blinked, the patterns of dancing light flashed across the inside of his eyelids. She had her back to him, and he wasn't even sure that she knew he was there, but when she sagged for a moment, the force lightning flickering as she did so, he darted inside, moving swiftly over a floor that was pitted and scored and grabbed her by her wrists. 

"No!"   
Pthia screamed, furious, and struggled in his grip, twisting, but Andronikos was physically stronger than she was, and though it pained him to do so, he pushed her wrists upwards, exerting enough pressure so that she couldn't move her arms. He knew the force flowed strongly within her, she could have him spinning helplessly in the air and full of lightning before he could say a word, but she'd never win an arm wrestling match. 

"Stop, please," he asked, and she did, going limp, her head sagging forwards. He relaxed his grip for a moment, not wanting to pin her arms for longer than he had to, and it was a moment she took advantage of, sending a shock of power through Andronikos and he fell to the floor, twitching as he went. He stayed conscious though, and looked up at the Sith, gritting his teeth through the pain. 

"I told you to get off the ship," she hissed, stepping back from where he was slumped on the ground, her hands clenching and unclenching as tiny sparks flickered across her fingers.  
"Co-uldn't le-le-ave you," he managed to say.   
"Wanted...w-anted to make sure you were okay..." 

She laughed at that, a short laugh that was free from humour.  
"Okay? Okay?! She wanted to take my body! I AM NOT A SLAVE. NO ONE OWNS ME, NO ONE TAKES FROM ME!" 

She turned away from Andronikos, slamming her hands against the ship wall, lightning arcing around her for a moment before she sagged again. She was tired, mentally and physically, not only had she survived the ritual that would have made her a prisoner in her own body but having recently learned the Force-walking ability she had seemingly survived death itself, the ghosts she had absorbed thwarting Darth Thanaton's attempts to kill her. But it wasn't those things that had truly gotten to her, backstabbing, power plays and assassination attempts were all grist in the mill of being Sith. Losing her freedom, that had scared her deeply, exposed her core and she felt like she was once again the helpless little girl who had cried for her mother every night for months on end. Behind her she heard movement, Andronikos had recovered enough to be able to stand again, and he walked slowly over to her, putting his hand carefully and gently on her shoulder and turning Pthia around. She allowed him this time, as his hand moved from her shoulder to her face, his thumb tracing a line along her jaw. 

"So don't let them. Don't let anyone do anything that you don't want them to do. You're strong, you crinking came from the dead and you've come this far from where you started. And you can go further, you keep getting more powerful, you have followers, a cult for karks sake and...Sith there's no where else in the galaxy I want to be then here." he pulled her into a hug as her face crumpled and she allowed herself to cry for the first time in at least a decade. 

"If you tell anyone about this..." Pthia mumbled into his shoulder, swiping at the tears that were making the cloth of his top damp.

"Yeah yeah," Andronikos laughed, wincing a little as he did so as he was still feeling the after effects of the shock.   
"Like a Life Day tree. Again."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a background for my Sith Inquisitor character. Chapters will be added as I continue to play through the story once again.


End file.
